Learn to be Lonely
by PetchricorXConstellation
Summary: The team is missing and Grif does all he can to get them back. But when he ends up earning a temper along with his muscles he will be left in the shadows by his team. It seems that he must learn to be left alone. *rated T for swearing (tons of F-bomb use ahead). Contains Grimmons*


**This is just a short little action fic. Yes, the pacing isn't all the great and they're all probably totally OOC but I don't really care. It's one in the morning, I can't sleep, I'm bored and I wanted to write an RvB fic. Includes Grimmons (fluffy-fluffity-fluff-stuff). Enjoy.**

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"Come you dumbass! Do it right! No no no! You're supposed to leap, kick, and land! Not leap, kick, and fall over! Now go back and do it again! And do it right this time!" Grif groaned in agony and dug his way out of the rubble he had landed himself in. This was getting retard and was seeming pretty meaningless now. It wasn't like he was doing anything really worth-while. He limped back over to where he had been standing moments ago and sighed knowing that he was going to have to do this a hundred times until he got it right, and he knew that he wasn't going to survive. He leaped into the air, kicked, fell backwards, and rolled down the hill yet again. He heard a heavy sigh. "Take five."

"Oh thank, God..." Grif allowed his entire body to simply collapse on the ground and wiped the sweat off his brow. A few months ago his entire team had gone missing, not just the reds but the blues as well, and he hadn't seen them since. At first he had been thrilled not to have them around but then things took a drastic turn, the army found him and chased him down screaming 'there's one! One of the simulation soldiers!' And that's when he figured out that something was horrible wrong and that his entire team was in danger, and he was probably the last one left.

After being chased into a dead-end of an alley he had been grabbed and yanked into a small hiding spot where he had been told to shut up and keep still. Once the cops had gone he had found out that his rescuer had been a Freelancer. Agent Delaware as she had told him, her real name being Elaina. After telling her why he was being chased they talked for awhile. They weren't friends but she could empathize with what he was going through and agreed to help him get them back, but she would only teach him what he needed to know to do it and she would have no direct contact in the mission what-so-ever.

So, here he was.

"Ug, you're covered in sweat and smell like a barn. Go rinse off in the river and come back when you're done," Del ordered. Grif sighed and got to his feet. His legs protested at each and every movement as he headed towards a small river nearby. Once he reached it he fell in and let the cold water run over his tired muscles. He let out a content sigh and smiled. "Come on, asshole! We've got work to do!" Grif groaned and stood up, heading back over. Was every female Freelancer a complete bitch? "Here, dry out." Grif grunted as a towel was thrown straight at his face.

"Gee, thanks, that really helps," he mumbled as he dried himself off. Del rolled her eyes and huffed. "Yeah yeah, I know I know. 'Shut your mouth kid and get back to work before I give you an old fashioned ass-whooping!'." Grif tossed her the towel and walked back over to where he had been practicing. Del smirked but quickly hid it before walking over and punching him. "Hey, what the hell?!"

"Don't mock me boyo! Now get back to work! Leap, kick, land! GO!" Grif winced at the loud noise of the whistle but did as instructed, only to fall back and roll down the hill again. "Get off your ass and try it again! And do land it this time!" Grif huffed and walked back up there. Even Sarge wasn't this bad. Hell, he'd ask for Tex over her even! He sighed as he stood up at the top of the hill again and tried the move over again. He fell but managed to not roll down the hill. He smiled. "Don't celebrate, you still failed! Try again! Leap, kick, land! Hop to it!"

Grif groaned and tried again, this time rolling down the hill as always. "Fuck this, fuck that, fuck her, fuck me... FUCK EVERYTHING!" Del shook her head and watched as the simulation soldier threw another one of his fits, something he did most often when he was getting frustrated with something. She sighed and willed herself down there.

"Hey, dumbass!" she hollered, getting his attention. His face was beet red, he was wet, tired, and it was just now she realized how long they had really been out here. "Tell ya what, if you get it right in the next three tries I'll give you a half hour break and you can have something to eat. Deal?" Grif paused to think about it, which was a surprise. He never thought about anything that involved food. He got to his feet and reached out his hand.

"Deal," he said in a raspy voice. Del shook his hand and they walked back up the hill. "You still suck." Del blew her whistle and glare.

"Leap, kick, land! GO!" Grif growled and tried again, falling on his back as always and rolling down the hill. "Two more tries, get up here! Come on!" Grif walked up the hill and tried again, falling but not rolling. "Leap, kick, land!" Grif paused and looked straight at her. _Leap, kick, land... _three actions, not one whole action. Smooth but not all one thing. "GO!" Grif jumped at the word and leaped into the air in an instant. Kicking up as high as he could (not all that high). He brought his leg down as quickly as he could and hit the ground with both feet. he stumbled a little and cursed.

"Well, that worked famously. Let me guess, go again?" Grif looked over at her blankly and raised an eyebrow at her smile.

"I've got sandwiches down the hill, come on," she motioned for him to follow her and he grinned as he ran after her. "So, how'd you do it? You failed horribly millions of times and in one instant you get it right. What's up with that?" Grif shrugged.

"Leap, kick, land. Three words, three actions. Not one," Grif said simply. Del hummed in thought as if she didn't quite get it but said not a word as she tossed him a sandwich and they both ate. Much to his own surprise Grif ate the foot slowly, savoring each bite like it was his last. But with how things where going it might be.

Or he had to at least find his team. He would be lonely without them.

...

"Is he going to be ok? He's not going to die is he? You can save him right?"

"Not if you don't shut up! Great God..."

"Guys, be quiet, she's trying to work!"

"but-"

"Shush!"

silence

"I'm bored."

"caboose!"

"Oh my god! Would you all just SHUT UP?!"

"Hey, he's waking up!"

"What are you-oh hey, he is. Morning lead-feet."

Grif groaned and slowly opened to eyes to see Del leaning over him with a smirk on her face. He could vaguely remember fighting for his life and screaming for his team to get out while they still could, other than that it was just a big blur. His head slowly turned to Del and he groaned heavily in mental agony.

"Morning coach. Am I dead?" Grif heard Del chuckle.

"Nah, but you gave it a good try all right, I'll give ya that. How do you feel?"

"Like every day of my life since meeting you."

"bow chicka bow wow."

"Tucker, I swear to God if you say that one more time I will skin you alive." Grif's eyes burst open.

"Wash?"

"Yeah...?" Del yelped and backed up as Grif shot into a sitting position like a rocket and looked over to see his team looking at him. Simmons, Donut, Doc, Caboose, Tucker, Sarge and Wash. The whole gang. Del chuckled and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, getting him to look over.

"You did it. It was crazy, stupid, and was against all odds, but you did it. You saved 'em, but don't ask me how because I really can't even imagine what you did," she told him. Grif gave a tiny smile.

"May I ask why you sent him after us all by himself?" Wash asked, standing up and walking over stand in front of Delaware, who stared him down a moment before she answered.

"Because I told him that I wouldn't have direct contact during the rescue mission because it was idiotic," Del answered. Wash huffed and turned around, running a hand through his hair in an irritated manner. "But I didn't let him go in there unarmed or anything, I trained him first." Sarge let out a firm laugh.

"Train, Grif? It would be easier to train a squirrel to fly," he joked. Grif winced and looked at the ground. Delaware huffed and walked over to Sarge, grabbing him by his shirt collar and lifting him up until he had to use his tippy-toes so that he didn't choke.

"I beg your pardon? This kid just saved all of your lives today. He worked his ass off every minute of every day to save you. Not because I told him he had too, not because someone was paying him, but because he genuinely wanted to get each and every one of you back. And he told me so every morning when I asked him why he was letting me torture him all day long. When I asked him if he was positive he'd say 'yes ma'am, one hundred and ten percent coach.' So, shut your mouth old man before I shut it for ya!" Del yelped as she was punched from the side.

"Don't talk to him like that," Grif huffed out, holding his side. "Only I get to talk to him like that, and no one calls him old man, not even me." Del turned to Grif and walked over to him, sizing him up. Grif put his arm down as his side and stood up as tall as his could. "Does that suit you, coach?" Del smirked.

"I've taught you well," she said and lightly punched him on the shoulder. "See ya 'round kid." Del gave him a tiny salute and left the room, leaving the team by themselves. As Grif looked at the door she had used to leave he didn't notice as Sarge looked him up and down. What had once been fat had become muscle and he had obviously been on a diet of some kind.

"What did she do, give you steroids?" Tucker said with a snort. Grif looked over at Tucker and gave a heavy glare.

"For your information I worked my ass of for you, dickhead. She made me fall down a hill a million times just to lean how to kick in mid-air and don't even get me started on sparring with that chick. She's fucking insane, like all the other chicks from that stupid project we ever meet," Grif told him. Tucker turned to look at Grif, surprised by the calm look on his face. "Now if you don't mind I'm going to go have a drink of water." Grif then limped out of the room.

"I don't think he's kidding," Simmons said, shock entering his voice. "Did you see his muscles? I don't think you get that kind of stuff without nearly killing yourself, especially with how he looked beforehand." There was a long silence in the room and everyone thought this over. The first one to leave was Sarge, leaving everyone else to think over this knew realization. Grif had worked hard to save a bunch of people he claimed to hate more than anything and nearly died too. He had to get a least a little respect for that, right?

They couldn't just leave him alone.

...

Grif gave a firm roundhouse kick into Wash's torso and sent him flying across the room and into a small pile of boxes. They had been sparring for over half an hour and Grif was still acting like he was fresh out of the box while Wash looked like had was about to fall into pieces. Grif huffed and walked down the halls. Sarge looked up from helping Wash as the other soldier left. Ever since they had escaped and started living in the old warehouse no one really talked to Grif and most were afraid to even pass him in the hall. Sarge sighed and walked out after him.

...

Grif drank some water and ran a hand through his hair. He had never worked that hard for anything before in his entire life. Why had he done it? Maybe it was because his entire family was dead and gone now and all he had was these rag-tag team of idiots. His mother had died, his father had never been found, and Lopez shot his sister, his last living relative. He sighed heavily. They were irritating, yes but they were all he had left anymore.

"Nice job there numbnuts." Grif slowly looked over to see Sarge leaning in the doorway. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked over, looking Grif over with an observing eye. Grif huffed a bit and drank a little more water, being careful not to down it in case he made himself sick. "I mean it you know, you did a good job, I never thought I'd see you use moves like that, and to save us. But why?" Grif froze a moment before slowly removing the cup from his lips. He turned to Sarge.

"This damn universe took everything from me," Grif told him, his voice going cold. He paused a long moment before shrugging and taking another sip of his water. "And I suppose that you rag-tag assholes are all I have in this fucked up reality." Sarge stared at Grif for a long moment. "What? Do I look pretty or something? What do you want?" Grif glared at Sarge and was a bit surprised as the older soldier took a step back, a look of fear covering his face for a second or two.

"I'm sorry." Grif's eyebrows narrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. Sorry? He should be sorry! He killed his sister, made him a meatpuzzle and Simmons a cyborg, nearly got them all killed because of those stupid blues, and about a million other things!

"You're only saying that because I could rip you in half now if I wanted to. You're only scared of me, you don't care, you never cared. So fuck off will ya? And let me have some peace and quiet to go along with my misery" Sarge stood there, wide eyed. Grif growled and glared daggers at him. "I told you to leave." Sarge took a step back before turning around and walking away. Grif looked down at the water in his cup, staring back at his reflection. "You're scared of me. Just like Tex, Carolina, Wash, and the Meta." Grif sighed and downed the rest of the water.

They were scared and they wouldn't care about him anymore.

Life was going to be lonely.

...

Grif sat criss-cross on the floor and tossed the ball at the wall, it bounced back onto the floor and back into his hand where he would throw it again. On the wall where he was tossing it was a piece of paper that read; **home sweet hole **in rough pencil. Grif sighed and bounced the ball yet again, only to repeat the action. If Tucker saw that sign he'd probably say 'bow chicka bow wow' and Grif would chase him around the base again. Grif sighed and caught the ball, letting his arm droop down at his side with a sigh. There was a knock and Simmons poked his head through the door.

"May I come it?" Grif shrugged and leaned his head back. Taking that as a yes Simmons entered and closed the door behind him, sitting beside Grif. "Home sweet hole?" Simmons raised an eyebrow and looked over at Grif, who grunted and continued to toss the ball back and forth. There was a long silence were Simmons watched as his teammate tossed the ball at his sign over and over again. Simmons reached out his hand and grabbed it.

"Hey!" Grif reached for it and Simmons held it back. Grif growled. "Give it back asshole!" Simmons held it just out of Grif's reach and smirked. Grif snarled and pinned Simmons against the ground. Simmons squeaked in surprise as Grif grabbed the ball, turning to glare at him. The look of shock on Simmons gave him was misunderstood as terror. Grif instantly went flying backwards and got to his feet. "Leave. Just, go." Simmons's eyebrows narrowed in confusion and got to his own feet.

"What? Why?" Grif growled deep within his throat, reminding both of the Meta. Grif stopped and looked away with a wince. In that one motion a hundred words were spoken to Simmons. Simmons walked over and placed a gentle hand on Grif's shoulder. "Oh Grif, you're not a monster. You just have new found temper, and that mixed with how built you've become unsettles everyone sure, but that doesn't make you a monster or anything. You're just a little-Grif...?" Grif had tears streaking down his face and he was sobbing softly. He turned to look at Simmons, the wall he had built around his emotions caving in in a second.

"I lost everything Simmons, fucking everything! My sister is dead, my mom is who knows where, and my father is dead too. You, Sarge and the others... you're all I have and ever since I got you back I've just been rejected and treated like a freak!" Simmons wrapped Grif up in a hug before he even thought of continuing. "I didn't ask for this... I just wanted to protect my sister, and I didn't..."

"It's not your fault, it was never your fault. You can't control the fate of the universe," Simmons assured him. Neither one talked as Grif cried for a good five solid minutes before calming down. "And I don't give a shit about what the others think, you're A-ok in my books." Grif snorted.

"That's because you're the only one here that cares to read," he remarked. Simmons gave him a small glare and both smiled a bit before chuckling at the joke. "But I still wish they would stop looking at me like I'm going to pounce at them at any second like some crazy puma or something. Don't say it." Simmons snickered a little at the mention of the animal. "It's an animal! Look it up!"

"I know it is, Grif," Simmons told him, trying not to laugh. Grif gave him a light smack. "Hey, that's not nice!" Grif rolled his eyes and Simmons huffed in frustration. "You are just so infuriating sometimes." Grif smirked.

"You love it that way," Grif joked.

"Strangely, yeah," Simmons replied. Both froze and Simmons turned a bright pink. "Shit..." Grif snickered lightly and Simmons glared at him. "Oh, now that's just cold. It's not like I like you or anything, especally not like that! I mean-come on, that's just retard, I'm not gay, I know you aren't, so it's just-" a finger placed right in the middle of his lips stopped Simmons mid-rant and he looked at Grif, whose smirk had turned into a genuine smile.

"You never were good with speaking what was on your mind, Sims," Grif commented and removed his finger. Simmons went to respond but was cut off as lips pressed against his own lightly for a moment, making him turn redder than he ever thought possible. "So I suggest that you stop talking." Grif smirked and his hands grabbed onto Simmons' neck, pulling him down until their lips met again. He shivered at the touch of Simmons flesh and mechanical hands against his back that pulled him closer as he and Simmons shared tongue on tongue contact inside Grif's mouth. The others could give him the weird looks all they wanted. But this moment?

This moment was theirs.

In this moment, he wasn't lonely.

...

Grif sat on his ledge and watched as Tucker and Caboose sat in a corner coloring something while Simmons and Sarge stood not to far away working on something and Wash took a nap by Donut and Doc who were talking about something or other. Grif gave a tiny smile at the sight, then sighed. Simmons and he were, in a sense, together now but to keep it under wraps they didn't change anything outside of private time so he didn't see Simmons as often as he'd like. As for everyone else they still ignored him and treated him like a monster. He sighed and hummed a tune his mother used to sing.

Learn to be lonely.

...

"Go! Go now!" Grif screamed as he punched down yet another soldier. Sarge grabbed Simmons by the arm and yanked him away from the battle scene. Simmons and Grif shared a look and Grif smiled in an attempt to reassure him but Simmons just continued to yank on Sarge's grip, as if he truly believed that he could save Grif even though everyone else knew he couldn't. Grif turned back to the soldiers in anger and let out a battle yell. "Come at me you bastards!" _It isn't like I have anything else to live for. _Grif charged at the men as they attacked. A bullet impacted on his side and in his knee, but he kept going.

Blood covered his eyes and met his tastebuds with an awful tang of iron. He threw one across the room and into a metal pole, making blood escape from his skull. He then turned to the last man standing who pointing his pistol at him. Grif bolted towards him and ignored the stinging pain in his chest as he punched the man so hard that his neck bent out of joint and he fell to the ground, motionless. Grif held his chest and looked down as blood covered it. He gave a funny smile at the sight and fell to his knees.

"Grif! Grif!" Grif looked over as Simmons ran over with Sarge and Wash right behind, trying to stop him. Grif fell onto his side and rolled over to his back, staring at the ceiling. "No! Grif!" Simmons knelt over the other man who was staring blankly into nothing. "No, no! Don't you dare die on my goddamnit!" Simmons put pressure on the wound and Grif put a hand over both of his slowly. A tear fell onto his check and Grif blinked in reaction.

"Sim-Simmons," he forced out with a gasp of air. Simmons sobbed and turned to look at Grif. Grif's hand ran up Simmons' arm until he finally found his cheek. He smiled and grunted in pain. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear." Grif chuckled a bit. "Simmons..." Simmons gripped Grif's other hand as tightly as he could. "I..." Grif gasped for air. "I love you." Simmons sobbed and Grif's grip loosened.

"Grif? _Grif!"_

Being lonely doesn't mean dying alone.

ΩAΩ

_Child of the wilderness,  
Born into emptiness._

_Learn to be lonely,  
Learn to find your way in darkness _

_Who will be there for you,  
Comfort and care for you._

_Learn to be lonely,  
Learn to be your one companion_

_Never dreamed out in the world,  
There are arms to hold you._

_You've always known,  
Your heart was on its own._

_So laugh in your loneliness,  
Child of the wilderness._

_ Learn to be lonely,  
Learn how to love,  
Life that is lived alone _

_Learn to be lonely.  
Life can be lived,  
Life can be loved..._

_ Alone_

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**The song the title is and of the poem/song at the end is from _The Phantom of the Opera. _It's a classic and you should totally watch it (if you don't mind musicals that is.) And yes, this is supposed to be sad. It was meant to be a Grif-can-be-awesome-too fic but turned into a sadfic. (also, finished this at three am. Ug... sooo tired...)  
**

**Thanks for reading, please review, may you have a bow chicka bow wow day, and may it be the best day ever of all time.  
ΩpetchricorΩ**


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